Wrenching his hands from her shoulders, she thrust them away and leapt up from the chair. The intense darkness added to the terror of the storm. Peste, she had forgot the sword. Jackson smiled and put on the air of a man who knows more than he cares to tell. “Garçon,” he said, “will you ask the gentleman at the next table if he will do me the honour of taking a glass of wine with me. “Well——” She stopped short.
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